University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

The Cypress-trees and Caves.
Scene changes, and discovers Prospero and Miranda.
Prosp.

Advance the fringed Curtains of thine Eyes, and say
what thou seest yonder.

Mir.
Is it a Spirit?
Lord! how it looks about! Sir, I confess it carries a brave form.
But 'tis a Spirit.

Prosp.

No, Girl, it eats, and sleeps, and has such sences as we
have. This young Gallant, whom thou seest, was in the wrack;
were he not somewhat stain'd with grief (beauty's worst cancker)
thou might'st call him a goodly person; he has lost his
company, and strays about to find 'em.

Mir.

I might call him a thing Divine, for nothing natural I
ever saw so noble.

Prosp.

It goes on as my soul prompts it: Spirit, fine spirit.
I'l free thee within two days for this.

Ferd.

She's sure the Mistris on whom these Airs attend.
Fair Excellence, if, as your form declares, you are Divine, be
pleas'd to instruct me how you will be worship'd; so bright a
beauty cannot sure belong to humane kind.

Mir.

I am, like you, a Mortal, if such you are.

Ferd.

My language too! O Heavens! I am the best of them
who speak this speech when I'm in my own Countrey.

Prosp.

How, the best? What wert thou if the Duke of Savoy
heard thee?

Ferd.

As I am now, who wonders to hear thee speak of Savoy:
he does hear me, and that he does I weep, my self am Savoy,
whose fatal eyes (e'r since at ebb) beheld the Duke my Father
wrack'd.

Mir.
Alack! for pity.

Prosp.
At the first sight they have chang'd eyes, dear Ariel,
I'l set thee free for this [OMITTED] young, Sir, a word.
With hazard of your self you do me wrong.

Mir.
Why speaks my Father so urgently?
This is the third man that e'r I saw, the first whom
E'r I sigh'd for, sweet Heaven move my Father
To be inclin'd my way.

Ferd.
O! if a Virgin! and your affections not gone forth,
I'l make you Mistris of Savoy.

Prosp.
Soft, Sir! one word more.
They are in each others powers, but this swift
Bus'ness I must uneasie make, lest too light
Winning make the prize light—one word more.
Thou usurp'st the name not due to thee, and hast
Put thy self upon this Island as a spy to get the
Government from me the Lord of it.

Ferd.
No, as I'm a man.

Mir.
There's nothing ill can dwell in such a Temple,
If th' evil Spirit hath so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with it.

Prosp.
No more. Speak not for him, he's a Traitor.
Come! thou art my pris'ner and shalt be in
Bonds. Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food
Shall be the fresh-Brook-Muscles, wither'd Roots,
And Husks, wherein the Acorn crawl'd; follow.

Ferd.
No, I will resist such entertainment,
Till my Enemy has more power.

[He draws, and is charm'd from moving:
Mir.
O dear Father! make not too rash a trial
Of him, for he's gentle, and not fearful.

Prosp.
My child my Tutor! put thy Sword up, Traitor,
Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike: thy
Conscience is possess'd with guilt. Come from
Thy Ward, for I can here disarm thee with
This Wand, and make thy Weapon drop.

Mir.
'Beseech you, Father.

Prosp.
Hence: hang not on my Garment.

Mir.
Sir, have pity,
I'l be his Surety.

Prosp.
Silence! one word more shall make me chide thee,
If not hate thee: what an advocate for an
Impostor? sure thou think st there are no more
Such shapes as his?
To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are Angels.

Mir.
My affections are then most humble,
I have no ambition to see a goodlier man.

Prosp.
Come on, obey:
Thy Nerves are in their infancy again, and have
No vigour in them.

Ferd.
So they are:
My spirits as in a Dream, are all bound up:
My Father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wrack of all my friends and this man's threats,
To whom I am subdu'd, would seem light to me,
Might I but once a day through my prison behold this Maid:
All corners else o'th' earth let liberty make use of:
I have space enough in such a prison.

Prosp.
It works: come on:
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel: follow me.
Heark what thou shalt more do for me.

[Whispers Ariel.
Mir.
Be of comfort!
My Father's of a better nature, Sir,
Then he appears by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.
Thou shalt be as free as Mountain Winds:
But then exactly do all points of my command.

Ariel.
To a syllable.
[Exit Ariel.

Prosp.
to Mir.
Go in that way, speak not a word for him:
I'l separate you.

[Exit Miranda.
Ferd.
As soon thou may'st divide the waters
When thou strik'st 'em, which pursue thy bootless blow,
And meet when 'tis past.

Prosp.
Go practise your Philosophy within,
And if you are the same you speak your self,
Bear your afflictions like a Prince—That door
Shews you your Lodging.

Ferd.
'Tis in vain to strive, I must obey.
[Exit Ferd.

Prosp.
This goes as I would with it.
Now for my second care, Hippolito.
I shall not need to chide him for his fault,
His passion is become his punishment.
Come forth, Hippolito.

Hip.
entring.
'Tis Prospero's voice.

Prosp.

Hippolito! I know you now expect I should severely
chide you: you have seen a Woman in contempt of my commands.

Hip.
But, Sir, you see I am come off unharm'd;
I told you, that you need not doubt my courage.

Prosp.
You think you have receiv'd no hurt?

Hip.
No, none, Sir.
Try me agen, when e'r you please I'm ready:
I think I cannot fear an Army of 'em.

Prosp.
How much in vain it is to bridle Nature!
[Aside.
Well! what was the success of your encounter?

Hip.
Sir, we had none, we yielded both at first,
For I took her to mercy, and she me.

Prosp.
But are you not much chang'd from what you were?

Hip.
Methinks I wish and wish! for what I know not,
But still I wish—yet if I had that woman,
She, I believe could tell me what I wish for.

Prosp.
What wou'd you do to make that Woman yours?

Hip.
I'd quit the rest o'th' world, that I might live alone with
Her, she never should be from me.
We two would sit and look till our eyes ak'd.

Prosp.
You'd soon be weary of her.

Hip.
O, Sir, never.

Prosp.
But you'l grow old and wrinkl'd, as you see me now,
And then you will not care for her.

Hip.

You may do what you please, but, Sir, we two can never
possibly grow old.

Prosp.

You must, Hippolito.

Hip.

Whether we will or no, Sir, who shall make us?

Prosp.
Nature, which made me so.

Hip.
But you have told me her works are various;
She made you old, but she has made us young.

Prosp.
Time will convince you,
Mean while be sure you tread in honours paths,
That you may merit her, and that you may not want
Fit occasions to employ your virtue, in this next
Cave there is a stranger lodg'd, one of your kind,
Young, of a noble presence, and, as he says himself,
Of Princely birth, he is my Pris'ner, and in deep
Affliction: visit, and comfort him; it will become you.

Hip.
It is my duty, Sir.
[Exit Hippolito.

Prosp.

True, he has seen a Woman, yet he lives; perhaps I

took the moment of his birth amiss, perhaps my Art it self is
false: on what strange grounds we build our hopes and fears,
man's life is all a mist, and in the dark, our fortunes meet us.

If fate be not, then what can we foresee?
Or how can we avoid it, if it be?
If by free-will in our own paths we move,
How are we bounded by Decrees above?
Whether we drive, or whether we are driven,
If ill, 'tis ours; if good, the act of Heaven.
[Exit Prospero.

Enter Hippolito and Ferdinand.
Scene, a Cave.
Ferd.
Your pity, noble youth, doth much oblige me,
Indeed 'twas sad to lose a Father so.

Hip.
I, and an onely Father too, for sure you said
You had but one.

Ferd.
But one Father! he's wondrous simple!

[Aside.
Hip.
Are such misfortunes frequent in your world,
Where many men live?

Ferd.
Such are we born to.
But, gentle Youth, as you have question'd me,
So give me leave to ask you, what you are?

Hip.
Do not you know?

Ferd.
How should I?

Hip.
I well hop'd I was a Man, but by your ignorance
Of what I am, I fear it is not so:
Well, Prospero! this is now the second time
You have deceiv'd me.

Ferd.
Sir, there is no doubt you are a man:
But I would know of whence?

Hip.
Why, of this world, I never was in yours.

Ferd.
Have you a Father?

Hip.

I was told I had one, and that he was a man, yet I have
bin so much deceived, I dare not tell't you for a truth; but I
have still been kept a Prisoner for fear of women.

Ferd.

They indeed are dangerous, for since I came, I have beheld
one here, whose beauty pierc'd my heart.

Hip.
How did she pierce, you seem not hurt.

Ferd.
Alas! the wound was made by her bright eyes,
And festers by her absence.
But, to speak plainer to you, Sir, I love her.

Hip.

Now I suspect that love's the very thing, that I feel too!
pray tell me, truly, Sir, are you not grown unquiet since you
saw her?

Ferd.
I take no rest.

Hip.
Just, just my disease.
Do you not wish you do not know for what?

Ferd.
O no! I know too well for what I wish.

Hip.
There, I confess, I differ from you, Sir:
But you desire she may be always with you?

Ferd.
I can have no selicity without her.

Hip.
Just my condition! alas, gentle Sir,
I'l pity you, and you shall pity me.

Ferd.
I love so much, that if I have her not,
I find I cannot live.

Hip.
How! do you love her?
And would you have her too? that must not be:
For none but I must have her.

Ferd.
But perhaps we do not love the same:
All beauties are not pleasing alike to all.

Hip.
Why are there more fair Women, Sir,
Besides that one I love?

Ferd.

That's a strange question. There are many more besides
that beauty which you love.

Hip.

I will have all of that kind, if there be a hundred of 'em.

Ferd.
But, noble Youth, you know not what you say.

Hip.
Sir, they are things I love, I cannot be without 'em:
O, how I rejoyce! more women!

Ferd.
Sir, if you love, you must be ty'd to one.

Hip.
Ty'd! how ty'd to her?

Ferd.
To love none but her.

Hip.
But, Sir, I find it is against my nature.
I must love where I like, and I believe I may like all,
All that are fair: come! bring me to this woman,
For I must have her.

Ferd.
His simplicity
[Aside.
Is such, that I can scarce be angry with him.
Perhaps, sweet Youth, when you behold her,
You will find you do not love her.

Hip.
I find already I love, because she is another woman.

Ferd.
You cannot love two women both at once.

Hip.
Sure 'tis my duty to love all who do resemble
Her whom I've already seen. I'l have as many as I can,
That are so good, and Angel-like, as she I love.
And will have yours.

Ferd.
Pretty Youth; you cannot.

Hip.
I can do any thing for that I love.

Ferd.
I may, perhaps, by force, restrain you from it.

Hip.
Why do so if you can. But either promise me
To love no woman, or you must try your force.

Ferd.
I cannot help it, I must love.

Hip.

Well you may love, for Prospero taught me friendship
too: you shall love me and other men if you can find 'em, but
all the Angel-women shall be mine.

Ferd.
I must break off this conference, or he will
Urge me else beyond what I can bear.
Sweet Youth! some other time we will speak
Farther concerning both our loves; at present
I am indispos'd with weariness and grief,
And would, if you are pleas'd, retire a while.

Hip.
Some other time be it; but, Sir, remember
That I both seek and much intreat your friendship,
For next to Women, I find I can love you.

Ferd.
I thank you, Sir, I will consider of it.
[Exit Ferdinand.

Hip.
This stranger does insult, and comes into my
World to take those heavenly beauties from me,
Which I believe I am inspir'd to love,
And yet he said he did desire but one.
He would be poor in love, but I'l be rich:
I now perceive that Prospero was cunning;
For when he frighted me from Woman-kind,
Those precious things he for himself design'd.

[Exit.